


Boxed In

by whittesmore



Series: Friendly, Neighborhood Spider-Man [1]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Dad!Tony, Emotional Trauma, Panic Attacks, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Precious Peter Parker, Sad Peter Parker, Tony Stark Has A Heart
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-13
Updated: 2018-02-13
Packaged: 2019-03-17 12:36:58
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,187
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13659126
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whittesmore/pseuds/whittesmore
Summary: It’s been seven months since the events of Civil War. It’s been two months and six days since Liz Allen moved to Oregon with her mom. It’s been two months and three days since Peter declined the offer to be apart of the New Avengers. It’s been a month and fifteen days since Peter was trapped under the rubble of a collapsed building. And Peter was fine, he really was.Until he wasn’t.(For the PeterTonyBigBang on Tumblr under @spideystilinski)





	Boxed In

The one thing that Peter didn’t like about being Spider-Man was the mask that had to cover his face.

It was a new development, his distaste to the red cover, but it was completely justified.

After The Vulture decided to cave a building in on him and Peter’s mask (albeit homemade) wouldn’t come off, he found himself not able to stand being in small places or have things covering his face.

Of course, to him, it was completely ridiculous. He was a freaking _superhero_! So, with that in mind, he hasn’t exactly told anyone of the full course of events that transpired the night of the Homecoming dance.

Only him and Adrian Toomes knew about it.

_(true, then again, i wasn’t really trying to)_

Now, here he is, sitting on the edge of a building on December 4th, watching as snow fell- it was light, with minimal build up on the streets, but snow nevertheless- as he swung his suit clad legs.

His mask was pulled up, exposing his mouth and the bottom of his nose, allowing him to munch on the sandwich he bought from Delmar’s new bodega. The New York cold was nipping at his lower face, but he ignored it in favor of finishing his late night snack.

Or “late night” snack. Considering that it was only nine thirty, it wasn’t actually late, but ever since Aunt May found out about his extra curricular activities, she’s been quite adamant about a curfew.

And since Peter has already broken it an unfair amount of times, he was only about two steps away from not being able to go out at all.

So, nine thirty meant he only had an hour and a half left of patrol before he had to be home.

Finishing up his sandwich, Peter balled up the wax paper in his fist, and yanked down his mask with the other, grimacing slightly as the material clung to his face.

_(come on peter, come on spider-man)_

 

It was a slow night, and he was cold, but chances were, if he went home early, something big would happen and Peter would be left feeling guilty for retiring the night early.

He scratched the back of neck, standing up and stretching slightly before he rolled his wrist, shooting a web to a building across the street and gliding across the traffic.

He always felt such a rush when he was webbing around the city, something akin to cliff diving or zip lining- two things he’s never _actually_ done- but he was pretty sure the feelings were similar.

He landed on the next rooftop almost expertly, his days of stumbling and crashing onto the ground were almost behind him, with only a few slip ups here and there.

Peter ran across the roof, diving off the side and flinging his hand into the air as another web left his shooter, clinging to another building and he continued the cycle, swinging around the city as he looked for some action.

It was slow lately, it was as if criminals stopped when the snow started, so there wasn’t much of anything lately. A few car thieves here and there, maybe a couple of petty theft within gas stations but there was never anything with any real substance.

Of course, there was no way he’d ever admit that to May. If she found out he was just chilling around, she’d make him come home at, like, six.

He was barely able to even get her to agree to let him stay out til eleven, and it didn’t help at all that Mr Stark backed her up when May brought up Peter’s apparent exhaustion and overworking of himself.

It was true at the time but things were different now.

 _Sure_ , when Peter wasn’t being Queen’s Friendly Neighborhood Spider-Man, he was stressing over homework and school while losing sleep, but that wasn’t something that May and Mr Stark needed to worry about.

Peter was just fine.

  
Completely, perfectly _fine_.

  
“Look man, you don’t have to do this.” The voice was shaken, but still held a sort of strength that Peter’s enhanced hearing could pick up.

“Karen, can you give me a location?” He questioned his A.I.

“ _Certainly_ ,” Her cheery, automated voice affirmed. “ _Two minutes away. Go straight, take a left on 3rd Street and then a right immediately after_.”

“Thank you.” He said politely as he followed her directions. Karen was an absolute blessing.

“We already gave you our wallets and we don’t even know what you look like just...just put the gun down, okay?”

Peter landed primly onto the rooftop looking over the alleyway where two people were standing, trapped by the wall behind them. In front of them was a man, obviously larger than the two, with a gun help up in the air.

Upon closer observation, he was able to recognize the two teenagers as Madeline Fletcher from Spanish and Carlos Juarez from AP Chem- two sophomores, like him. He could guess why they were out at this time, considering that the two have been dating since the end of freshman year.

“I said I didn’t want ya money, boy.” The mugger sneered, continuing to thrust the gun in the faces of the two, Madeline shaking as Carlos wrapped an arm around her, seemingly shielding her from any course of action their attacker might take.

Spider-Man swooped down, webbing the nozzle of the gun, causing the man to jump in surprise. “Geez dude, it’s almost Christmas, didn’t you hear that guns aren’t apart of the holiday agenda?”

He tried to ignore the fact that the alleyway was small, and that evil part of his conscience teased him of the idea of how the buildings could cave in at any moment.

_  
(“i’m stuck. i can’t move. i can’t-“)_

“ _Peter, your heart rate has spiked, are you feeling okay?_ ”

“I’m fine.” He shook his head, turning his attention back to the situation at hand. “I’m good. I’m good.” He repeated.

Both Carlos and Madeline watched him with wide eyes as he landed in front of them, his hands raised as he shot off lame one-liners at the gunman.

“ _If you say so. Unfortunately, I am derecting two other weapons besides the gun_.”

“Get outta here, Spidah-Man, this ain’t ya fight.” He had a heavy accent, kind of a mix between a New Yorker and someone from an Italian mafia.

“It’s not theirs either so I’m failing to see your point.” He rolled his eyes, despite him being the only one to know he did.

“Yeah man, you already got our wallets. Just walk away, no one has to get hurt.” Carlos said, seemingly gaining some more confidence.

“It’s not about ya money, kid.” The robber stated. “Iss ya pops, and he owes me some cash- and Imma get it anyway I hafta.”

“Oh my god, you really are in the mafia.” Spider-Man stayed, flinging his wrist forward as a web connected the gunman’s hand to his hip, his gun landing on the ground.

“ _I have a match on the database. Alejandro Castillo. He’s a runner for a mafia that works upstate, however, he does not seem to be very good at what he does. Turning him into the police would show he’s violating his probation_.”

“Perfect.” He stayed, confident that Alejandro would be facing some real jail time. “Run,” He turned his head, to the side, speaking to Carlos, who looked to be in shock at the robber’s words, and Madeline.

Madeline nodded, grabbing her boyfriend’s hand, yanking him along with her as the two fled the alleyway.

Meanwhile, Peter webbed the not-mugger’s legs together, though the man jumped out of his way, opting to lunge towards him while throwing a punch.

“Look man, I’m not a great dancer,” He stated, ducking low as to get out of the man’s reach. “So if we could just wrap this up quickly, that’d be fantastic.” He quipped, only successful in webbing one of the man’s feet to the ground.

“ _Peter, I would advise that antagonizing a known criminal is not a very good idea_.” As awesome as Karen was, she didn’t think Peter’s comments were helpful in a fight.

Honestly, he thought he was hilarious. Scratch that, he _knew_ he was hilarious.

Alejandro growled in anger, reaching for the forgotten gun, Peter flying forward to kick it out of the way. He did his signature move, opting to web the gun toward himself only to curse when the compact clicked, signifying that he was out of web fluid.

He dove forward, landing on the gun, swiping his arm to the side, allowing the gun to fly towards the end of the alleyway, out of the mafia member’s reach.

“Sonofabitch.” The man sneered, reaching into his pocket to reveal a small knife. “Watch ya mouth kid, or I won’t hesitate to end the _amazing_ Spidah-Man.” He spat the adjective as if it was insulting, but all it did was make Peter snicker.

“Oh no,” The teenager said, backing away slightly.

“That’s whatta thought.” Alejandro smirked, holding the knife as if it held the answer to the universe.

“I can’t believe you’ve done it,” Peter cowered down, raising his hands in surrender.

“ _Peter_ ,” Karen said, as if in warning.

“You’ve found it. My weakness. Sm-Small knives.” He couldn’t help it, right as he uttered the last words, he snorted in laughter, but his words did just as they were supposed to, serving as a distraction so Peter could switch in a new web compact.

Alejandro’s face turned red, as the man looked confused for a moment, giving Peter the perfect moment to lunge for the man, knocking the feet from beneath him.

The knife clattered to the side, Alejandro landing with a grunt, allowing Peter to take his moment of distraction to change the cartridge within his web shooters.

He spun around, webbing Alejandro’s ankles together and his hands to the ground.

He grinned in triumph as he walked over to the knife, collecting it along with the gun. His initial thought was to web them to the building before common sense kicked in and realized how much of a dumbass move that would be.

“Karen, can you please call 911?”

“ _Already done_.” She chirped back.

Peter nodded in appreciation, looking back over at the struggling mafia member. He bent down, searching the pockets of the man’s large jacket, snorting as he picked out a pocket knife.

“Really man?” He questioned.

Peter webbed the weapons together, setting it on the ground before he jumped up onto the wall, clinging on as he waited for the sound of sirens to cue his departure.

“You have an incoming call from May Parker, shall I patch it through?”

He pondered it for a moment as if he really had a decision to make. If it was actually his choice, he would immediately decline the call. Anytime May called during patrol, it would be because she either wanted him to pick up some type of grocery or to come home early, and he wasn’t really in the mood for either.

  
Late night grocery shopping was not something Spider-Man did.

( _friendly, neighborhood spider-man_ )

“Sure,” He sighed, climbing further up the wall.

“ _Peter?_ ” His aunt’s voice was clear through the speakers of the suit.

“Hey May, what’s up?” Surprisingly, his voice sounded nonchalant, despite the adrenaline still left over from the fight with Alejandro.

“ _Listen sweetie, I’m gonna need you to take an early night. Something important came up_.”

“What?” He questioned, flipping onto the rooftop the moment the sirens were close enough for Peter to leave it to the police. “Is something wrong?”

“ _Nothing of immediate danger_ -“ Peter quickly cut her off.

“May, what’s going o-“

“ _Kid, just listen to your Aunt and come home_.”

Peter stumbled to a stop, utterly surprised at the sound of his mentor’s voice.

“M-Mr Stark?” He stuttered.

“ _In the flesh. Listen, we got some things we need to discuss. Hurry up_.” While to others, it may have sounded aggressive, Peter was around Mr Stark enough to realize that this was just the way he talked and that there was never any real heat behind the words.

“Y-Yeah, be there soon.” He stated, letting out a deep breathe when the call ended.

Peter cracked his knuckles before he began his route home, his stomach twisting into nervous knots and his mind was calculating so many different possibilities of what exactly May and Mr Stark needed to speak to him about.

  
( _time to go home, pete_ )

  
He stopped outside of his window, waiting a moment as he tried to think of any excuse he could use to get out of this (confrontation wasn’t really Peter Parker’s thing) before he realized that maybe that wouldn’t be a very good idea.

Peter slipped into his bedroom and shut the window before he pulled his mask of his face, giving a half hearted goodnight to his A.I. He was thankful the material wasn’t clinging to his skin anymore, but he didn’t have time to think about it as he continued to be filled with anxiety.

He stripped down out of his suit, taking time to fold the garment nicely, stalling as much as he could before eventually sliding on a pair of sweatpants and a Midtown Tech jumper.

He sighed, running his fingers through his messy hair, staring at the door of his bedroom for a moment before finally exiting, stalking into the living room.

Oddly enough, he couldn’t help but feel like he was walking into the principal’s office at school, though the principal has never been an overprotective aunt or a billionaire superhero who also happened to be his idol.

“Peter!” May sat up quickly from her seat on the couch, setting her mug of coffee onto the table.

“Uh, hey.” He said awkwardly, eyeing Mr Stark whom was seated at the armchair, nursing a mug of hot coffee. “Hey Mr Stark.” He greeted, trying to muster up a smile, but only succeeded in small twitch of his lips.

He twiddled his thumbs as he stood under the gazes of the two adults, automatically thinking of every bad thing he’s ever done in his life. “So, uh, what’s up?”

“Relax Pete,” Mr Stark stated. “You didn’t do anything wrong, but there are some things we need to talk about that involve you.”

May offered him a small smile, “Are you hungry?” She questioned, passing by him with a loving pat on the shoulder as she entered the kitchen.

“Not really, I had a sandwich from Delmar’s.” He answered, feeling a lot less tense at the knowledge that he didn’t do anything wrong. “Did something happen? Are we going on another...er...retreat?”

  
( _when’s our next retreat, you know?_ )

Tony sighed, scrubbing a hand over his face before taking a sip of his coffee. “No, this has to do with...how do I put this? We’re not really friends anymore but I wouldn’t technically say that we’re enemies but-“

Peter couldn’t help but interrupt, “Are you talking about The Rogues?” He questioned, referring to Captain America and his lackies.

 

Subconsciously, he rolled his shoulders, the phantom strain of the car Scarlet Witch has dropped on him during his fight with the Captain.

“The Rogues?” He raised an eyebrow. “Huh, interesting. How’d you come with that?”

“It’s kinda everywhere.” Peter shrugged, taking a seat on the couch.

Tony nodded, dismissing the subject though he continued to dub the Captain’s team as ‘The Rogues’. “As of five o’clock this evening, The Rogues have been granted a full pardon and are expected to return back to New York by the end of the week.

The moment Peter’s jaw dropped in surprise, a hot cup of something was thrust into his hands, the sweet smell of peppermint hot cocoa invading his sense of smell. He looked up, being greeted by the sweet smile of his Aunt May.

Peter nodded in gratitude, though the warmth of the hot cocoa could only do so much to stave of his shock at the news. “H-How?” Was the only word he could utter in Mr Stark’s direction.

He could understand how those like Hawkeye and Ant-Man could be pardoned, considering that the damage they caused wasn’t horrible, but at the news of Captain America being pardoned, Peter was able to agree with his AP US Gov teacher as to how the government wasn’t in their right mind.

“They’ve all signed the Accords,” Tony explained. “And they’ve agreed to the amendments. Of course they’ll be on probation and most likely under a lot of surveillance, but apparently since they’re legally bound to the Accords, they can come back.”

Peter’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion. How were there no real consequences? Buildings and cars were ruined in Germany, and people got injured.

He used to idolize Captain America, and maybe deep down somewhere within him, he still did, but after what he’s witnessed, he knew that the man wasn’t exactly the Captain America the world knew in World War 2.

When the world came to the realization that he wouldn’t be fighting just for them, but for himself and his own agenda, how could they allow for The Rogues to go unpunished just because they agreed to the Accords?

The same Accords that Peter- _no_ , Spider-Man- was bound to.

“Wait,” His eyes widened slightly. “Are they gonna have to know who I am? Mr Stark, I’m pretty sure the Falcon and the Winter Soldier see me as an enemy and I think if they knew who I re-“

“I’m gonna stop you right there, kiddo, okay?” Tony raised a hand, silencing Peter’s rant. “After all the trouble I went through with you and the Accords, I can promise you that I won’t let them find out who you are.”

Peter breathed out a sigh of relief, though the pit of anxiety in his stomach was still present.

  
( _come on peter_ )

Spider-Man signed the Accords, though he wasn’t an official Avenger. Despite having declined Tony’s invitation to be apart of Earth’s mightiest heroes, Spider-Man was dubbed an honorary Avenger, causing him to be obligated to sign.

The issue was, he was supposed to sign as Peter Parker, not Spider-Man, and that was something he couldn’t bring himself to do.

It took a lot a money, on Tony’s part, and many, many council meetings and court discussions, but in the end, Peter was able to sign as Spider-Man.

But with that agreement came the very fine print, and on another copy, one that only a limited number of people were able to see- which most definitely included Thaddeus Ross- Peter Parker was listed as the secret identity of Spider-Man.

And truth be told, he was kind of scared as to what would happen if Captain America found out that a 15 year old who couldn’t even drive was the one who stole his shield.

  
( _where you from, kid?_ )

“Peter,” He flinched in surprise as a sharp clicking noise filled his ears, blinking his eyes as he realized that Mr Stark was now right in front of him, snapping his fingers.

“Sorry.” The teen stated, shaking his head slightly. “Did you say something? I think I missed it.”

“Are you okay?” May was next to him, a soft look on her face.

“Yeah?” Peter said, slightly unnerved by how close they both were. He felt boxed in. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

  
( _come on spider-man_ )

He didn’t like the look that May and Tony shared, though he was used to it by now. The past few times the three have been together, the look was a common thing and unfortunately, Peter couldn’t decipher it.

  
The language of adults was difficult to understand.

“Your eyes glazed over,” Tony said bluntly. “And you started breathing hard.”

“Oh.” He really didn’t know what to say, especially since he couldn’t recall what Mr Stark said happened.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” May ran her fingers through his hair, which would usually be comforting, but right now, all he could feel was water dripping through his hair and cold concrete rubbing against his scalp.

  
( _please_ )

He flinched away, his hands coming up and cupping around his hair. Unfortunately, that only caused May to move closer, and for Tony to adopt a sort of worried look as he kneeled in front of him.

Close. Too close.

  
( _i’m stuck_ )

He gasped, standing up quickly on shaking legs. “Peter!” May called, reaching for him but he ducked out of her reach.

It felt like the walls were closing in, and he suddenly he couldn’t move. Barely making it out of the living room, Peter collapsed against the wall, though that did nothing for the panic attack he pushed himself into.

  
( _someone help me_ )

“No, no, no, no.” He mumbled miserably, squeezing his eyes shut as he tried to escape the feeling of the walls closing in.

His fingers were tangled in his hair and his knees were pulled to his chest, his head pressed into his legs as he tried to rid the memories of being crushed from his mind.

  
( _come on, peter_ )

If he was in his right mind, he would have been able to stifle the shriek that left his mouth when two hands wrapped around his own, but he wasn’t, and not even the thought of how Mr Stark was still in his home was able to keep him from freaking out.

“Hey, hey, hey!” He could faintly hear before the pressure on his hands was gone. Peter continued to curl in even more on himself, breathing heavily until his chest began to feel like it was being crushed all over again.

“Peter,” The voice came again, though it was a lot quieter. “Hey, Underoos, I need you to breathe...”

He couldn’t focus on the words being said when his mind was adamant on convincing him that the world was caving in.

( _help me, please!_ )

In the back of his mind he knew that he was in the hallway of his apartment in Queens, but right know, he felt like he was back in that abandoned warehouse, trapped under layers of concrete.

“I can’t get out, I can’t.” He wheezed, gasping as he could feel the ghost pain that lingered from that night.

  
( _concrete on his chest_ )

His eyes opened, but he wasn’t looking at the beige walls in his apartment, no, all he could see was darkness and broken concrete.

All he could was his reflection, the broken face of a broken superhero.

No, not a superhero. He wasn’t a superhero. He was a pathetic teenager who couldn’t deal with anything.

And suddenly, someone was grabbing at his hands again and the scene melted away, now replaced by the face of Tony Stark.

Peter choked back a cry, now realizing the tears that were streaming down his face.

“Come on kid, focus on me, okay?” He could hear the words that were being said, but it was like he was underwater.

He blinked, suddenly aware of how slow the world seemed to be moving.

  
( _i can’t get out_ )

But just as suddenly as he was back in reality, he was lost to it again, as he realized that everything was so...close.

The world really was closing in on him.

He pushed Tony’s hands off him, suddenly finding the strength to stand up, slamming into the wall behind him.

  
If he wasn’t so dazed, he might’ve noticed just how hard he had pushed his idol, the billionaire having had crashed to the ground.

  
“Peter!” May’s shrill voice called again.

He spun around, only to stumble when he moved too quickly.

He needed to get out of there, it was too small. Too small.

Suddenly, it wasn’t just the mask that would cling to his face or the idea of sleeping in his bed, covered by a blanket that had Peter freaked out, now it was everything.

The hallway was too small, the living room was too small, the kitchen was too small, his room was too small. Everything was just too small.

“Peter? Peter, it’s okay.” It didn’t help.

His already quick breathing sped up, and Peter found himself clutching his chest, he felt like he was gonna pass out.

His vision was blurry, and he wanted to run. He needed to get somewhere bigger, some place where he couldn’t be crushed.

  
( _i’m down here_ )

May made a move to come near him, the maternal instinct she’s developed since she became Peter’s legal guardian in full action, but Tony stopped her.

Peter was pale, shaking, and silently crying, and the fact that he was only more freaked out when they got closer to him was enough to tell him that this was a PTSD attack fueled by claustrophobia.

“You’re gonna freak him out more,” Tony stayed softly, eyeing the fifteen year old that looked ready to collapse again.

Jesus, if the kid didn’t start breathing correctly soon, he would pass out.

Peter looked between the two of them, before gasping in pain again, dipping downward before he straightened up.

  
( _i can’t_ )

It was obvious the presence of the both of them was becoming a problem, and as much as he knew it would pain May, she needed to go somewhere else.

Tony looked up, catching her eye, making a small gesture for her to retreat back into the living room. The woman frowned, though she seemed to understand that it would be beneficial towards her beloved nephew if she gave him some space, so instead of arguing, she backed away.

“Kid, listen, you’re fine, okay? You’re just fine.” Despite the many panic attacks he’s gone through himself, he wasn’t exactly sure how to talk someone out of one. “You’re in your apartment, okay?” He looked around, trying to think of something to say before it clicked.

  
“Come on, Pete,” Despite his conscience telling him to stop, Tony wrapped his arm around Peter, wincing when the boy let out a heart wrenching whimper before twisting out of Tony’s grip.

Both May and Tony watched as Peter practically flung himself back from the two of them, his eyes wide with terror and giving off the impression that he was not all there.

His Aunt gasped, taking a step towards her nephew, her mouth opening as she began to call his name, when said teen bolted.

Despite having looked shaky and ready to pass out, Peter was quick on his feet, and in a matter of a second, the fifteen year old was gone.

“Shit.” Tony muttered, giving a quick glance to May, who looked shocked.

“I need to go find him,” She said, her own voice shaky, making a movie for the ajar front door.

“No, May, wait,” He was quick to stop her, the woman looking unimpressed.

“Tony, this better be good otherwise I’m going to kick your ass.” She sneered, and given any other situation, the engineer would have laughed, but now was not the time.

“Just let me get him okay? I have a pretty good idea where he went.” He spoke calmly, giving her a serious look.

She frowned, “Tony,”

“May.”

“Just...just make sure he’s okay, please?” Her voice broke slightly, and Tony felt her pain.

“Wouldn’t dream of anything else.” He offered a soft smile before he hightailed it out of there.

The door leading to the stairs was wide open, leading Tony to the conclusion that his hypothesis regarding Peter’s whereabouts was correct.

He took the steps two at a time, bounding up quickly as quick as possible, his mind running rampant with all kinds of case scenarios of the scene he would walk into on the roof.

Tony burst through the roof door, gasping slightly at the shock of the cold before he looked around, his eyes landing on the figure curled up on a high rise.

Peter had his knees to his chest, his arms wrapped around his legs, and his chin rested on his knees. He looked _small_ , smaller than he usually was, and he was staring down at the city below, seeming unbothered by the darkness of the night.

Tony hesitantly approached the kid, wary of setting him off again, but Peter just acted as if he wasn’t there. The billionaire took a seat beside him, though he kept his distance.

It was cold outside, but at the moment, Tony wasn’t really feeling much of a chill. He was too worried for the kid he has come to care about.

The two sat in silence, though Tony had resurfaced his phone, sending a quick text to May, assuring her that Peter was okay.

Or at least, okay in the sense that he was safe.

Gradually, Peter began to breathe easier and the tears streaming down his face came to a stop. It was as if being on the roof had calmed him, and Tony couldn’t help but wonder what had happened to provoke him.

Despite his adamance of having no real “connection” to Peter, it was quite obvious that Tony felt some sort of fatherly tie to the teenager. He constantly worried about his well-being and he, despite other statements, was actually intrigued by the stories the kid had to tell.

And watching him go through such an awful panic attack, Tony couldn’t help but feel like he needed to protect the kid more- or better yet, like he needed to protect his kid more.

Even after it was apparent that Peter had calmed down and was no longer in his dazed, incoherent state, Tony didn’t make any move to force him to talk. He was content with letting Peter start the conversation, or even to be the one to leave the rooftop. He didn’t want to pressure him into doing something he didn’t want to do.

The two sat, staring at the city below, flickering with different lights and humming with the night noise. In a way, it was actually kind of peaceful. He felt no pressure up here, no need to worry about the moment the Rogues stepped back into the Avengers Compound.

No need to worry about the next time he has to face Steve.

Up here, a weight was suspended off of his shoulders.

A sniffle brought him out of his thoughts, and Tony casted a glance towards Peter, taking note of how the kid was shivering- though instead of terror, it was because of the chill.

In a suave way that only _the_ Tony Stark could pull off, he slipped his jacket off of his arms, gently sprawling across Peter’s shoulders, and that was when the kid finally looked at him.

Peter’s flushes face held miserable tear tracks, and his eyes were still glossy, his cheeks red from both his panic attack and the weather.

“M-M-Mr Sta-a-ark-“ He stuttered out, an apology obviously on the tip of his tongue. “I-I-“

It was quite evident that he was seemingly mortified that he had a meltdown in front of Tony, and he wanted to make sure the kid realized that he wasn’t alone.

“You know, a couple months after the Battle of New York, I can’t remember exactly how many, but it was the December after,” He began, “I was out to lunch with Rhodey, it was right before the whole Mandarin incident actually,” Tony snapped his fingers in remembrance, though it was not really a subject he liked to think about.

Peter looked at him in confusion, most likely curious as to why Tony was telling this story, but continued to go on silent and observing.

“There was a couple of kids who came up to us, probably no older than you probably were at the time, and they asked me to sign the drawing they made. It was a little girl and boy...Erin,” Once again, he snapped his fingers as he was able to recall her name. “I don’t think the boy told me his name, but that’s not the point. The drawing was a picture of me flying a nuke into...into the wormhole.”

He kind of choked the word out, feeling the familiar clench in his chest before he was able to breathe again, “I wasn’t over what happened, probably not even over now actually, and that combined with the busyness of the restaurant, it kind of set me.”

Tony glanced over at Peter, whom was listening with interest and a partial concern, looking him in the eyes before concluding his story, “I ended having a panic attack in front of everyone there and I couldn’t breathe until I was in the suit.”

The spider kid frowned, still clutching his legs, before he spoke, “Oh Mr Stark, I’m s-so-“

“No,” Tony sighed. “You’re missing the point. I didn’t tell you that so you would feel bad, I told you because everyone- even superheroes- can panic. I don’t want you feeling bad for having normal reactions to things.”

“But that’s the thing,” Peter mumbled. “What happened to you was much worse than me. I should be able to deal with this instead...instead of having some meltdown for no reason.” He plopped his chin back down on his knees, glueing his eyes to the city line, refusing to look at Tony.

“See, this is what we’re not going to do.” The engineer chastised. “This isn’t some competition, bud. I don’t know what happened to you, but it doesn’t have to be flying through a wormhole for you to be traumatized by it.”

He ran a hand through his hair when he didn’t receive a response, “No one’s going to penalize for having emotions, Pete.”

“It...it was even that bad.” Peter finally spoke. “I mean, I’m here now, right? So why am I so hung up about it?”

Tony furrowed his eyebrows, “P-“

“I-It was the night of Homecoming. He knew who I was, somehow he figured it out and he...he told me that if I just left him alone, that I’d be okay. He wouldn’t hurt me or A-Aunt May.” He had enough common sense to understand that ‘he’ was actually Adrian Toomes, the civilian identity of the Vulture.

“But I couldn’t just let him keep selling those weapons, ya know? And I know you took my suit Mr Stark, but I just had to do something. So I ditched, and I got out my suit, and I followed him. I didn’t think...I...I think he knew I was gonna going to come after him. He had some guy out in the bus lot who attacked me but I was able to handle him, and Ned helped me track him down, and for some reason, I didn’t realize how...how easy it was.” Peter rubbed at his eyes, pausing to take a shuddery breath.

(you know, i gotta tell you pete)

“He knew I was coming. He tricked me, and I let  
him! I thought I could handle him, but instead, he tricked me!” He knew he sounds dumb and hysterical, but for once, he was finally talking about. “He knocked the building down on me.” His voice was timid and quiet.

“I thought he was just trying to hit me with his wings, but really, he was breaking down the podiums holding up the ceiling.”

(true, then again, i wasn’t really trying to)

“And he building came down and I was stuck.” This time, he didn’t flinch when Tony wrapped an arm around him, and suddenly, he was pulling into a hug, snuggled into Mr Stark’s side.

(i’m just holding the door open for you. we’re not there yet)

“I’m sorry.” Tony said, hugging Peter tight.

“No, no Mr Stark, it w-wasn’t your fault!”

Tony shook his head in disagreement, pulling back to look Peter in the eye. “It was. And I’m sorry.”

The brunet opened his mouth to speak again, but Tony quickly interrupted him. “Look, I’m gonna promise you this here and now, okay?” He stated seriously, “I’ll never take your suit again.”

“I can’t ask you to do that.” Peter mumbled.

“You’re not asking me to do anything, this is my decision. I couldn’t protect you then, so I’m going to do it now.” He paused before continuing, “But I do have one condition.”

Peter made a face of confusion that caused him to look like a lost puppy, “And that is?” He questioned with a raised eyebrow.

“You still have to come by the compound, even when the Rogues arrive.” It was both for him and Peter. Tony didn’t think he could deal with them alone, and he didn’t want Peter to feel like he wasn’t welcomed just for the sake of keeping his identity.

“What about them not knowing me? Wouldn’t be a little weird if you just have a random teenager hanging around?”

“Kid, seriously? You’re a genius, right? S.I has interns all the time, it’s the perfect excuse.”

Tony could’ve clapped at the grin that crossed the teen’s face.

“Thank you Mr Stark.” He smiled, this time initiating the hug.

“How many times am I going to have to tell you to call me Tony?” 

 

 

 


End file.
